Mahika Katariya

Many nights are now spent with a tall glass of coffee at my desk, my application spreadsheet still open on my laptop.//Mahika Katariya

Dear Reader,

I’ll admit it – I love complaining. I think everyone does, even if they’d never say so out loud.  

I wouldn’t describe myself as someone who’s negative all the time, since I do try my best to keep the whining to a minimum. Still, it’s enjoyable to drone on about everything that’s wrong with my life, especially alongside like-minded friends who feel as done with it all as I do. 

The nice part of senior year is that there’s no shortage of problems to complain about, so while going through some of them, I’ll pay homage to “10 Things I Hate About You”, a must-watch film for any true hater.

1. The emails. I can’t describe how many your inbox will be encumbered by – mail from colleges you’ve applied to (and ones you haven’t!) starts flooding in, the SAT won’t stop screaming at you in blue and yellow and the Common App sends endless “last-minute reminders”. Suddenly, I’m the type of person who sneers at magazine updates, deleting anything with “mailing list” on it before I read anything else. I never used to give my junk folder a second thought. Now, I live in fear of it swallowing up an urgent message.
2. The waiting. It’s almost more anxiety-inducing to wait on results after submitting than it is to actually prepare the applications. With no way to tell whether or not you’re being considered, all you’re left with are your last shreds of hope as you beg the odds to be in your favor. Frankly, it’s made me a bit desperate as I search for distractions – I’ve read four books in the last five days, and let’s not even talk about how much “Grey’s Anatomy” I’ve gotten through.
3. AdmissionsTok. Creators who’ve dedicated their platforms to the “T20 pipeline” have infiltrated my brain, even though I know they’re all spouting nonsense. The glowing box of doom (what I’ve nicknamed my phone) provides zero escape from the stress of this semester, since my entire feed is trying to sell me their course on how to write the perfect personal statement. You’d be hard-pressed to find someone who hasn’t been traumatized by the infamous “I hate the letter S” essay.
4. The “I hate the letter S” essay.
5. “Standing out”. Like many seniors, it’s been my No. 1 goal these past four years, as I carefully curated a list of extracurricular activities and experiences that were sure to set me apart from the thousands of other students applying to the same schools I am. But now, after writing more essays than I can count where I tried to come off as unique and compelling as possible, I’m ready to throw the entire concept away and make peace with being completely unoriginal.
6. Holidays. The break that should be spent making lasting memories of the final year I get to spend with my loved ones is instead spent worrying about everything I could be doing if I wasn’t at a family function. If you’ve recently found an excuse to open an essay at a holiday party this past week, join the club. I won’t lie and say it’s fun to be part of.
7. My Goodreads reading challenge. The girl who set that goal was an optimistic second-semester junior. I don’t know her, and frankly, I want nothing to do with her. When this is all over, I’m sure I’ll return to wolfing down books like it’s a competitive sport – but for now, all I want from them is escapism, and sure, that sometimes happens 50 books at a time, but it’s usually closer to five. If only I could enjoy them without that progress bar hitting me in the face every time I open the app.
8. And on that note: reading a bad book. Nothing is worse than when I’ve wasted precious hours I could’ve spent on my actual responsibilities to NOT have fun.
9. The tainting of my annual “Gilmore Girls” rewatch. Who would’ve known that a show where the conflict of the first three seasons centers around a high schooler trying to fulfill her academic ambitions (including, I kid you not, TRYING TO GET INTO HARVARD) would be a tough watch right now? I know, shocking.
10. On top of all this, guess when the sun goes down now? 5 PM. I think that speaks for itself.

Listen – I try not to get sucked into the negativity of complaining, but it’s a fun respite from reality sometimes. For thirty minutes to an hour, my problems become lighthearted anecdotes that get me a few laughs, not an endless slew of stressors. Some treat hating like a sport, but to me, it’s more like watching TV: another mindless pastime to take my mind off the pressure.

Until next time,

Mahika